


The Fires over Rhalgr's Reach

by verdant_leaves



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-22 18:22:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30042846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verdant_leaves/pseuds/verdant_leaves
Summary: The attack on Rhalgr's Reach hits some harder than others...
Relationships: Cid nan Garlond/Warrior of Light
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	The Fires over Rhalgr's Reach

The night air was blessedly cool as Verdant knelt behind Alisaie and Alphinaud. Ahead of them knelt Pippin, peering through his telescope at Castellum Velodyna. They had plans to capture the stronghold with their contingent of Grand Company and Ala Mhigan Resistance fighters, but as with anything they had to make careful preparations.

“Excellent,” Pippin said after a span of silence. “The disposition of the imperial forces is exactly as expected. I shall notify Father.” He lowered his telescope and began closing it, pleased with this information. Then, the silent night was broken by ear-splitting explosions echoing over a distance.

“Cannon fire!” Pippin exclaimed. “Where did it come from!?” Everyone stood and looked around. Verdant was the first to see the rising red smoke to the northeast, but Alisaie was the first to speak.

“Smoke! There!” she exclaimed. “Is that- Oh Gods!”

“Rhalgr’s Reach,” Verdant said under their breath. They could now see that it was not just smoke, but that it was painted red by fire below, furling into the night sky. Their heart raced as they reached within, releasing the soul of the studious scholar and calling upon the soul of the melodious bard. They could hear Alphinaud trying and failing to make contact behind them.

“It’s no use,” he said. “I think someone’s jamming out communi- Verdant!” The young Elezen shouted after them as they broke into a run. The rest followed after, just within range to feel their steps gain extra lift as Verdant called upon Peloton.

Verdant could not hear them, could not allow themselves to. The only things they could hear were their own harried thoughts. _Krile. Y’shtola. Not again. Lyse. Meffrid. Not again. M’n_ _aa_ _g_ _o_ _. Kemp. Not again. NOT AGAIN._ A secret stronghold, friends and allies hidden within, suddenly attacked while Verdant was away… This couldn’t be the Waking Sands again, they wouldn’t let it!

Verdant’s lungs were burning by the time they were within sight of the glamoured entrance to Rhalgr’s Reach. The glamour was long gone, however, and coming down the path wearily was Krile escorting four resistance fighters and Arenvald supporting an injured M’naago.

Alphinaud called out for Krile, seeming to signal an air of safety for the resistance fighters. Some began to sit as Verdant and the others joined them. Alphinaud inquired as to whether they were under attack, but the answer was obvious as Verdant looked upon the injured fighters. They clenched their fists, then lifted their head at something Krile had said.

“Lyse and Kemp are still there?” Verdant asked. “Y’shtola and Meffrid, too? What are we waiting for!?” Verdant started to run, but stopped beside Arenvald as Alphinaud spoke.

“Arenvald, can you escort these people to the Wall?” he asked. Arenvald had been clinging onto M’naago, who winced in agony. He looked up and nodded. Verdant patted his shoulder before resuming their run, followed shortly by the twins, Pippin, and Krile. They called upon Peloton again in desperation. It wouldn’t ease the burn in their lungs but damned if they cared.

As they passed the dilapidated pillars that framed the entrance to the Reach, they met with a resistance fighter who had fallen to his knees. He expressed amazement at their arrival. Verdant didn’t stop to aid him, however, as they saw more fighters coming up over the hill with a slew of Garleans on their heels.

Verdant saw only rage as they pulled their bowstring back and loosed the first arrow, their mark striking true through the eye of a Secutor. They slowed their run only slightly as they loosed two more arrows, sending them flying past the fleeing fighters and into the chest of a Signifier. The Signifier was only slowed as they began casting a spell, dark light swirling around their staff.

Alphinaud was quick to respond, sending his Carbuncle forward to attack the Signifier and block its attack. Alisaie crossed her sword with a Laquearius while Krile made to attack the second Signifer. Verdant drew back their bowstring and tilted their bow back before loosing a rain of arrows upon both Krile’s target and the second Laquearius that made to strike her. The Laquearius fell back, their fall softened by the now-dead Signifer. Krile finished the fallen solder as Verdant turned to the twins’ foes. Pippin was now felling the Signifier that Alphinaud had attacked while Alisaie stepped around her fallen foe.

“Verdant! Push on!” she called. Verdant nodded and was quickly off without a look back at their companions. Though they did not doubt that they were close behind, Verdant could only think of those who were yet within.

_Y’shtola, Lyse,_ _where are you!?_ _Meffrid, Kemp... Not again. NOT AGAIN._

They found another band of resistance members, not all of them fighters, and set about felling the soldiers and magitek armor that surrounded them. It was here that Alisaie made a horrifying realization. “Those monsters,” she growled. “These people had surrendered!”

“It’s not too late for the others,” Verdant heard Pippin saying as they started running for the next group in their sites. “With Verdant! We must hurry!”

If more was said, Verdant did not hear it. Rage sang in their veins again as they called upon Peloton to speed their steps. They could see at the tents that the Garleans were not alone with the captive resistance fighters. There were other unknown figures among their numbers, beastlike even, and Verdant could not tell if they stood with or against the Garleans. As they neared the group, pulling their bowstring and taking aim, they could see that the beastlike figures stood compliantly astride the Garleans.

Foes, then.

Verdant loosed the string, striking the operator of one of the magitek armors clean through their helmet. The rest were alerted, but too late as Verdant and their companions fell upon them swiftly. Pippin launched himself upon the nearest Secutor while Alisaie dove further in, eyeing the beastlike figures in the back.

“Are those beastmen fighting for the Imperials!?” Alphinaud exclaimed as his Carbuncle flew past Verdant’s head. “I’ve never seen them before-” The carbuncle was quickly struck down by one of the beastmen, rolling along the ground before it righted itself on all fours.

“They are enemies and must be brought down as such!” Verdant shouted. They flew arrow after arrow upon their enemies, imperial and beastman alike, until all of the resistance fighters had fallen back. “Fallback!” They jumped back as their companions moved away from their weakened opponents. Verdant pulled back their bowstring, tilting their bow up before letting loose another rain of arrows. The last of their enemies fell in a cascade of bodies.

“They… They took…” Verdant turned to one of resistance fighters who had fallen back. Krile knelt to her side and began healing her. “They took Lyse and the others deeper inside.” She rolled her head weakly toward the center of the camp where the statue of Rhalgr stood. “You’ve… you’ve got…”

“Keep your strength,” Verdant ordered, panting for the breaths they so desperately needed. “We’ll save them and put these dogs down.” They turned and shoved past the tents to make for the center of Rhalgr’s Reach.

They broke into a run once clear of the tents. As they approached the lake they saw a group of familiar warriors running toward them with swords brandished: Skulls, like those Verdant had seen that day with Lyse and Meffrid bullying the Ala Ghanna man they had saved. As lightning flashed, Verdant caught sight of their leader, the one named Fordola.

“There they are!” Krile suddenly shouted. “We’re not too late!” Verdant gasped and looked beyond Fordola and her Skulls. Beneath a tree beside the lake were Lyse, Y’shtola, and Kemp. Two of them were down, however, and Meffrid was nowhere to be seen. Verdant’s heart raced with a blazing fire.

They released the soul of the bard, calling upon the justice-seeking soul of the dark knight, trading bow for great sword. “I’ll cut you all down!” Verdant yelled, drawing their sword before swinging it across the torso of the first Skull that reached them. They fell, lifeless, as the next brought their blade down upon Verdant’s. This one was none other than Fordola, herself, who growled as she pushed into Verdant. Verdant pushed back before sliding their sword and spinning around to kick Fordola back.

A Skull with a spear made to stab Verdant’s blindside but had it cut down by Pippin. Alisaie set her sights on a mage while Krile and Alphinaud attacked from a safer distance. The latter’s onyx Carbuncle lunged in and lashed at the second mage. Together, the four companions brought down Fordola’s Skulls as she exchanged blows with Verdant.

When the last Skull fell, thrown down by one of Alphinaud’s spells, Krile ran at their captured companions. Fordola seemed to realize that her men had fallen and became distracted long enough for Verdant to kick her back again. They reaffirmed their stance, gripping their blade tightly. They dared to glance over after Krile called for Alphinaud’s aid. The two were now healing Y’shtola and Kemp.

“My lord!” Fordola called out. “The prisoners!”

“See to your men, Pilus.” Verdant growled as they followed Fordola’s gaze. At the other end of it they found a heavily-armored Garlean commander, full-blooded judging by the place in the helmet for the third eye. This one was considerably tall, even more perhaps than Nero, with impossibly broad armor. In his right hand he held a katana, and hanging from his left seemed to be two more in a large, strange contraption.

“Uh, as you command, my lord,” Fordola said, saluting the Garlean commander. Verdant looked between thetwo as Pippin and Alisaie joined to either side of them, swords at the ready.

The Garlean commander waited for Fordola to leave before approaching them by several more steps. He then stopped and glanced to where Krile and Alphinaud continued their healing. “Your friends were a disappointment,” he said. “But you… You will entertain me, will you not?”

“Entertainment!?” Verdant spat. “Is that all this is to you? Garlean dog!”

“Clear your mind!” Alisaie warned. “If we kill him, here and now, we can end this!”

Verdant disagreed: A cleared mind was weak in a situation like. Verdant needed the rage. The focused on it, listening for the voice in the darkness. The voice responded: _Vengeance_. A deep red aura permeated Verdant’s being. The change seemed to surprise Alisaie but she didn’t falter. “Together!” she shouted.

The three charged in, taking aim at different points. Verdant struck at the commander’s sword, holding it while Pippin struck true at his legs and Alisaie to his side. None seemed to move the Garlean, however, and he repelled them all. They skidded back on their feet, Alisaie and Pippin stopping far to either side of Verdant.

“I have no need for this rabble,” the Garlean said, stabbing his sword to the ground. It began to glow a vibrant orange. “Begone!” Fire-like light exploded from the blade, throwing all three of them further away. While Alisaie and Pippin landed in painful, groaning lumps, Verdant landed true on their feet, held up by their greatsword. They looked up at the Garlean with rage burning in their eyes as they righted their sword and ground in their feet.

“Hmm, you yet stand,” their opponent said. “Mayhap you have potential.”

Though the rage burned, Verdant returned their sword to its mount on their back. Fury would not be enough, much as the voice within disagreed. They needed to defeat this monster to protect their friends. They needed to be a protector. Setting aside the ire of a dark knight, Verdant called upon the stalwart protection of the paladin’s soul. Renewed, they drew sword and shield, emblazoned with the crest of House Fortemps.

“Fascinating.” The Garlean drew his blade back. “Give me something to remember!”

Verdant lunged forward, their black broadsword striking true against blade and armor both. Yet it seemed that no matter their speed, no matter their strength, no matter the power they called upon, nothing seemed to budge their enemy.

As Verdant stepped back, panting with their efforts, their opponent seemed to recognize their limits. “Better,” he mused, “But lacking nevertheless.” Verdant snarled at him, watching as he drew back his blade. “Well? Don’t stop now.” Verdant huffed, calling upon paladins past as they charged. “Or is it that you have nothing left?”

Their blades met again, clashing metal ringing harshly between cracking thunder. Then there was a different crack. Verdant leapt back, bringing their sword up to eye level. “Oh dear,” the commander chuckled. “It would seem you misjudged your blade.” Verdant grimaced at the great chip and crack in their sword. “And it would seem I misjudged you.” He swung his sword back. “This ends now.”

Verdant agreed and charged again, but the Garlean wasn’t playing anymore. His sword brimmed with fire-like light. Instead of stabbing his sword like before, however, he brought it up before Verdant to strike them. It was all Verdant could do to bring their shield up before the light exploded upon them. Their shield broke apart upon their arm as they were thrown back, falling head over heels onto their stomach.

Somewhere they could hear voices calling their name between the painful humming in their horns. Their entire body felt like stone as they pushed themselves up, using their sword for leverage. Once on their feet, they glared adamantly at their enemy, lifting their sword in defiance. Verdant refused to back down. They had never been defeated: Not by primals, dragons, Ascians, or ancient Allagan monstrocities. They would not fall to a man.

Such was their last thought before said man suddenly lunged at them in the blink of an eye, katana slicing through the air sharply and cleanly. Verdant didn’t feel the blade on their skin, didn’t hear it cleave clean through their armor, and didn’t even register the rapid blurring of one eye. No, the only thing that registered was the world turning around as they fell, back upon the ground.

It was thus that General Raubahn and a contingent of Grand Company soldiers found them. One of the Twin Adders immediately dropped to Verdant’s side and began the process of healing them. As the calming magic overtook them they finally felt the burning pain down their chest and from their chin to over their eye. They looked up at the Twin Adder, their glasses long lost but the evidence of their injury still clear.

“Mine eye,” Verdant gasped.

“I’ll do what I can,” the soldier said. “I don’t think it can be helped, however.” Verdant dared to nod, testing the healing process. They were determined to get up as soon as the pain was even remotely tolerable.

“Shall we give chase, General?” Verdant glanced up, only now realizing who else was near.

“Nay,” they heard Raubahn say. “There had been enough death this day. See to the wounded.” Verdant started pushing themselves up at that, pushing away the Twin Adder who sought to help them. Verdant bit their lip to stifle their protestations of pain.

They felt another hand on their arm and made to push it away, but this one had a firm grip and refused. It guided Verdant to their knee where they stopped to take several long breaths.

“You all right there?” Verdant glanced back to see that it was Raubahn holding them. Verdant grimaced and looked away silently. They had no words for what had just happened.

“To best the likes of you… Zenos is not what I took him to be.” Verdant grimaced at Raubahn’s words. _Zenos yae Galvus_ …

They made to stand, taking the aid that Raubahn gave. Together they looked over the carnage left in the wake of the attack. Though Verdant’s glasses were long lost, and their right eye a vast blue of darkness, there was no mistaking the bodies that lay cast about the sands.

“The Waking Sands…” Verdant gasped softly. They looked beyond the bodies to where the soft glow of Krile and Alphinaud’s healing continued. Yes, healing. That was what was needed. The rage died in Verdant as they called once more upon the healing touch of the soul of the scholar, hoping that Lily would help them muster the strength to save more than would be lost.

First, they had to see to their friends. They hobbled over, leaving Raubahn to coordinate the soldiers in rescue efforts. Lyse was knelt by Y’shtola, begging her to awaken. Krile was giving her assurances. At Verdant’s arrival, Krile looked up to the injured Warrior of Light. “Don’t stand there gawping,” she said. “You’re a healer, aren’t you? If you’re well enough, get to work. We have these two in hand.” Verdant nodded silently, sparing a glance to Lily. The fairy nodded and spun in the air, clearly aware of what needed to be done.

They moved to the larger congregations of soldiers to find where the injured were being gathered. Verdant knelt among them, casting gentle white magic upon their wounds with Lily until they no longer courted death. Some thanked them. Others couldn’t, either unconscious or too in shock to notice. Their recognition mattered not a whit. Not when there were so many that couldn’t be helped. So many like Meffrid, already cold upon the bloodied sands…

Verdant did what had to be done. Because it was right. Because their lives were in their hands. Because they were a Warrior of Light, and because they had failed to fell the one who brought death upon them.

Eventually, exhaustion began to take hold. Moving down the many injured, Verdant’s wounds weighed them down, even as Lily applied their own healing touch to their master. They had no warning when the world upended itself and would surely have landed on one of the injured they had been trying to heal had a pair of claws not grabbed hold of their arms.

“They’re wounded!” they heard Aisthgar say as sounds began to go fuzzy.

“Why are they healing people?” Ember’s voice… Further away? “They need a healer, themselves! Lily can only do so much.””

“This way,” they heard of Alette’s lilted voice. Verdant felt themselves being heaved up. “I saw Krile going-”

Silence and darkness enveloped Verdant. A blessedly dreamless sleep took them and kept them until the light of day played at their eyes. Sounds around them began to come to them as humming, first, before they recognized voices.

When at last they opened their eyes they found themselves in the infirmary. They could see Grand Company soldiers moving wounded resistance fighters out of the infirmary beyond the opening of a curtain. Without their glasses and with only one good eye it was difficult to tell what was happening.

“Ah, there you are.” A comforting voice made Verdant lift and turn their head. They found Cid sitting beside their cot, watching with a furrowed brow. “Welcome back, my love.” Verdant gasped his name before reaching out, grimacing at the ache in their chest. Cid reached back, collecting them carefully into his arms. The tears came as soon as their forehead met his collar. Cid closed his eyes and rubbed his chin into their hair.

“I’m here,” he said. “Let it out.” They grasped at his tunic, the tears flowing freely as sobs wracked their wounded chest.

“It’s like the Waking Sands,” they finally gasped between sobs. “All over again. It’s just- It’s happened again and I couldn’t- I could-”

Cid hushed them gently, running one hand down their back while the other carded through their hair, no longer bound by its usual plait. “I know, my love, I know,” he said. “I’ve heard everything. I know.” He wanted nothing more than to damn Zenos yae Galvus to the seven hells and back, to tear through all of Gyr Abania and hunt down the bastard who near killed the love of his life. That was something he could not do, however. He had neither the power nor the skill.

What he had was the ability to be there for Verdant. To hold them and comfort them as best as he could. That would have to do.

Soon, Cid’s gentle touches and Lily’s renewed presence seemed to have the desired effect. Verdant’s tears dried and their sobs turned to pants for breath. Lily sat upon their shoulder while Cid reached up and brushed the tears from their face. “The others,” they finally said. “Y’shtola and Kemp, how are they?”

“I haven’t left your side since I arrived,” he said with a shrug. “The others found you first. They caught you about to collapse while healing the wounded. La’mone found me after they rushed you off to Krile. Apparently you pushed off the soldier who tried to heal you before they had given you adequate succor?” Verdant shrugged and shook their head.

“Probably, yes,” they said, casting their eyes at Lily. The fairy was shaking their head in disapproval. “I had just been thoroughly defeated by a Garlean commander taller than Nero and broader than a mountain. I who fell primals, dragons, Ascians, and ancient Allagan weapons.” They sighed. “Fell by a mere man.”

“Zenos yae Galvus is no mere man,” Cid said lowly. Verdant looked up at him, the name bringing fire to their eyes. “He’s a monster if ever there was one, and defeating you proves that.” Cid’s furrowed brow returned and he reached out and cupped Verdant’s face in his left hand. “He nearly killed you…” He ran his thumb up the scar now brilliant on Verdant’s face, stopping just under their now-pale right eye. “It’s a miracle that this is all he did.”

Verdant shook their head and brushed his hand away. They exhaled and called upon the soul of the paladin, Lily twinkling out of sight. Cid’s gasp was audible as he beheld the damage.

Verdant’s black cuirass had been severed clean in half from belt to collar and through to their skin, revealing the wide, bright scar that ran the entire length beneath. They brought their sword and shield onto their lap, showing Cid the devastation wrought upon the once-proud symbol of House Fortemps.

“Seven hells,” he exclaimed. He reached out and took one half of the shield in hand. As he looked it over, he concluded that it was even less than that: The two large pieces still strapped to Verdant’s arm accounted for less than half each of the shield.

“My sword is a loss, too,” they said, lifting it up to show the large chip and crack leading down from it. “My glasses were lost, and my eye…” They cast their eyes upon Cid. “All I see is a great blur. I would not even be able to tell what that great blur was if I did not already know it was you.”

Cid could hear the defeat in their voice and he having none of it. He reached out and took the broken sword from their hands, dropping it to the floor. He then stripped the broken pieces of the shield and set them aside before cupping their jaw once more in his hand. “These things matter not,” he said. “Armor can be replaced. A shield, a sword, glasses, all replaceable. An eye, well, you still have a good one.” He rubbed a circle upon their cheek with his thumb. “You are not replaceable. You are still here. That is what matters.”

“Here, here!” The pair turned to the entrance to Verdant’s alcove and found La’mone standing there, arms crossed. “A thousand pardons for eavesdropping, but Mistress Krile thought she heard voices,” the unusually-ragged Miqo’te explained. “She bade me check on your condition. We are moving the wounded to the Wall and needed to see if you require the carriage or are fit to walk.”

Cid turned to Verdant who was already attempting to stand. “I am fit enough,” they said. “I will not take from those more grievous than I.”

“You say that,” La’mone said, “Yet your attempts to heal while injured give me reason to doubt your judgment.”

“I’ll be with them,” Cid assured him, standing beside Verdant. “They’ll be fine.” La’mone tilted his head at Cid.

“I shall keep you to your word, Garlond,” he said in warning before turning and leaving. Cid chuckled at the man as Verdant’s form changed again. He turned to see them returned to their fur-trimmed white coat and red skirt. They looked down upon the broken remains of their shield.

“We’ll have to get you set about with new armor,” Cid said as he bent down. He grabbed hold of the blanket and flipped it over the pieces. “I have a few ideas.”

“I already have a set at my apartment,” they said quietly. “I was just thinking… The last time I saw that shield broken, I had lost someone important to me.” Cid pursed his lips as they turned their gaze upon him. “I have to be stronger, Cid. I cannot waver, cannot fall again. No more lives lost.” They brought their hand up to cup Cid’s jaw, thumb brushing through his beard. Cid took their hand in his. “I could not bear to lose you.”

“You won’t,” he said. “You won’t lose me. You won’t fall again. You’ve had a knock, and you’ll come back from it stronger than ever.” He smiled up at them. “You have a light within you so bright, a fire so powerful that will leave monsters like Zenos to rue the day they crossed you.” He then sighed and reached up to wrap his free hand around the back of Verdant’s neck before gently pulling them down until their foreheads met.

“Until that day, however, be soft,” he said. “Be gentle, fragile even. You cannot be strong and firm all of the time. You cannot bear all the burdens of the realms alone, try as you might. If you keep trying, you will shatter even before you take up arms against your foes. I beg of you, take care with your precious self.”

“Cid…” Verdant hummed an agreement as they rubbed their forehead into his. They had no words for a heartfelt demand such as his, neither in their agreement nor to disagree. They pulled away with a sigh and turned back to look to the blurry room beyond.

“Aye, we should go,” Cid agreed. He took Verdant’s hand as they dropped it from his jaw. Together they stepped out from the alcove to join the carriage waiting outside, bound for the encampment at the Wall.


End file.
